


begin to hope (and it's alright)

by orphan_account



Series: begin to hope [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drama, Emotionally Constipated Idiots Everywhere, Humor, Jim Needs to Stop With His Inferiority Complex, Kinda?, M/M, Overused Cliches Ahoy, Romance, Use Your Words Bones, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 17:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Jim gets hurt after Khan. Bones doesn't take it as well as he'd like to. Emotions ensue, and no one knows what to do with them. (Post ST:ID)</p>
            </blockquote>





	begin to hope (and it's alright)

**Author's Note:**

> Title's from another Regina Spektor song, because we've already been over my inability to title things. Listen to the song, though, because it's awesome. 
> 
> Also, this has been done six ways to Sunday, but it refused to leave my mind. Un-betaed, so all mistakes are mine, though if any of y'all are willing to help me on that front, I'd be grateful. :)

“Doctor, I believe it would be in your best interests if you were to retire to your quarters for the day. There is nothing more you can do, and you require rest.” 

Leo raised his head to glare at Spock, uncrossing his forearms from where they rested on the biobed, and scowled as he straightened. God _dammit_ , he’d just wanted to shut his eyes for a few seconds. “I don’t. I’m fine.” 

Spock tilted his head the tiniest degree, eyebrow raising up the slightest. It wasn’t his ‘humans-are-such-irrational-illogical-creatures-why-must-I-deal-with-them’ eyebrow raise––that required his eyebrow going _all_ the way up. No, this was his, ‘I-am-correct-and-you-know-it’ one, which was just as bad. 

If Leo weren’t about to fall dead from exhaustion, he would’ve spent a good five minutes mourning his life and what it had become because he had started to _categorize Spock’s eyebrow raises_. That just proved his theory––he was going slowly but surely bat-shit insane on this flying tin can. 

“Spock, I _told_ you, I’m fine,” he snapped, but he wasn’t, not really. The only thing keeping him upright was his own will. Guess his McCoy stubbornness had finally been good for something other than destroying his marriage. 

He wasn’t about to leave Jim––the stupid, reckless, arrogant, son of a _bitch_ ––because he had to be here when Jim woke up. Because Jim _was_ waking up. Of that, Leo was sure.

“Doctor––,” Spock started.

“I _told_ you, I’m _fine_ , dammit,” Leo snarled. 

Spock was silent for a second, lips pressed together, and his eyes narrowed a fraction. “Nurse Chapel has informed me you have not left sickbay in four days, and have barely slept at all, in addition to having spent two days nonstop before that to create the antidote. I do not understand why you continue to insist upon something that is not true, Doctor, for you are not… _fine_.” 

Leo clenched his jaw, took a breath through his nose. _Damn_ Christine. “Spock,” he said, forcing his voice to stay calm, “I _assure_ you, I know my own limits, and I haven’t crossed ‘em. I’m a doctor, I _know_ what I’m doing.” Which was a bald-faced lie, because he knew what he was doing was unhealthy and unhelpful, but he couldn’t stop himself, didn’t want to, because Jim––Jim had almost _died,_ the stupid fucking bastard, again, and what the fuck was Leo supposed to do? Get some _sleep_? Yeah, that was happening.

As always, it was supposed to have been a ‘routine’ away mission. And in a twisted sense, it had been––there were hostile natives where there should’ve been none, and they had also just _happened_ to hate the Federation. Enter Jim, the stupid selfless idiot that he was, making sure his crew got away by holding off a group of the natives and being _stabbed_ in the stomach in the process–– _of course_ ––and then sacrificing himself by jumping in front of a poison-tipped arrow to save Sulu––because being _stabbed_ wasn’t enough for James T. Kirk, oh no, he had to go _above and beyond_ ––before Scotty had been able to beam them up. Because when it came to James _fucking_ Kirk, everything going to shit _was_ the routine.

The only thing that’d been keeping Jim alive but unconscious when he’d been beamed up had been Khan’s blood, may that bastard never rest in peace. But there was only so much Khan’s blood––the effects of which had been weakening over the couple of months Leo’d first injected it into Jim––could do, and Jim had lay there in the cryo tube, pale and clammy, barely breathing, eyes shut, reminding Leo of another time that he would most certainly _not_ like to think about. 

“Doctor…” Spock hesitated, stopped, started over. “Leonard,” he said, his voice infused with a touch of understanding, warmth, even and Leo stared at him with wide eyes because _what the fuck_? “The Captain would not be pleased to see you in such a state. There is nothing more that can be done for him at the moment, and you must rest.”

Leo ran a hand over his face. Yeah, he was really fucking tired, knew the stims he’d been using to keep himself up would leave their mark, but he _couldn’t_ leave, wasn’t in the mood to explain why he couldn’t to Spock, not even fully knowing why himself. 

Actually, that was a lie. He knew _exactly_ why, but would rather pretend he didn’t, because otherwise he would be pretty much fucked. Well, more so than usual, anyway. 

Sleep was out of the question, because every time he shut his eyes, every time he drifted off, he dreamt of blood and death, glinting steal and body bags, of _Jimyoucan’tleaveme, please, don’t leave me_. Hence the stims, the need to sit by Jim, reassure himself he was still there, living but unconscious, breathing and warm and alive.

It sure as hell wasn’t healthy, but at that particular moment, Leo didn’t really give a fuck. He also didn’t want to sit there and explain to Spock, Mr. Emotion What’s That, why he _needed_ to be here.

He licked his lips and heaved a sigh. “Listen, Spock. It’s mighty kind of you to, uh, _care_ , but I ain’t gonna be able to _rest_ until Jim’s conscious, all right? Ya don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine.”

Spock stared at him for a while, silent and unyielding in that creepy Vulcan way of his, then pressed his lips together in a grim line. 

Leo wondered whether he’d break something, expressing so much emotion in such a short amount of time.

“I see there is no point in outlining various other, logical points to try and convince you of your need for rest,” he said, and inclined his head. “Please do ensure you do not overstep your limits, if you have not done so already.”

Leo nodded. “I won’t.”

This time, Spock actually _sighed_ , albeit softly and barely discernible, and Leo wondered whether the world was about to go up in fire. Again. “I suppose me telling you I do not believe you will have no effect whatsoever on your decision?”

Leo shook his head. “Nope.”

Spock nodded. “As I thought, then. Goodbye, Doctor.” He turned on his heel, back straight, and took a few steps forward. He stopped, then, back to Leo. “It is fascinating that you are willing to do whatever must be done to ensure the health of others,” he said, then turned to look over his shoulder at Leo, “and yet are so carelessly dismissive of your own.” 

Leo stared after him as he walked out of Sickbay, pretty sure he was gaping, because had Spock been _concerned_ for him? 

Jesus H. Christ. Did he really look so unhinged even _Spock_ was starting to worry? 

Leo ran another hand over his face. Well, fuck him. Fuck everyone. He knew what he was doing, dammit. He knew he’d only be able to rest once he knew Jim was alive and well, once he’d groused and grumbled and grumped over his health, once he did a thorough check-up, went to his quarters, and got well and truly drunk before crawling into bed. 

He yawned so wide he was sure part of his soul escaped, and then got up to go get his PADD. Might as well get some paperwork done while he waited, because God knew how long _that_ would be.

***

Leo woke with a start, breathing harsh. He remembered where he was, the vestiges of the dream––Jim, bleeding, in pain, dying, lips forming the words, _Why couldn’t you save me?_ ––starting to dissipate as he swallowed and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Shit, he must’ve fallen asleep. He looked at his PADD and saw that it had been about two hours since Spock had visited him. 

“Hey, Bones.” The words were raspy, barely more than a whisper, but Leo didn’t think he’d ever heard anything better in his fucking life.

He snapped his head toward Jim, saw his dry lips quirking into a strained smile and his bright blue eyes hazy and bleary but _looking at him_ , and felt the breath flee him in one fell swoop. “Jim,” he breathed, the relief almost crushing him, and he blinked and swallowed against the sudden tears. “Thank God.”

Jim huffed out a small laugh, but winced just as suddenly, shutting his eyes, breathing out a pained, “ _Shit_.” 

Leo was out of his seat and reaching for the tricorder before he even registered his actions, murmuring, “Take it easy, Jim, take it easy.”

“Don’ think I’ve got much’f a choice,” he mumbled, eyes still shut. 

“Be thankful you’re even here to say that,” Leo grumbled as he took in the readings, his chest unclenching as he saw that Jim was all right, albeit tired and probably sore. He put a glass of water next to Jim’s lips, who sipped it through the straw. The poison had started locking Jim’s muscles up one by one, would’ve moved to his heart to do the same if Leo hadn’t concocted the antidote in time. He’d never get the image of a mostly paralyzed Jim staring up at him, blue eyes wide and terrified, lips moving silently to plead for relief, before succumbing to unconsciousness. 

He let out a breath and reared back, put the glass back, took some notes on Jim’s chart before crossing his arms, glaring down at Jim. He opened his mouth to lecture Jim on his _idiocy_ , his _foolishness_ , because, _dammit, Jim,_ _you’re not infallible_ , before shutting it, pursing his lips instead and shaking his head, letting his hands fall to his side. “Damn fool boy,” he growled.

Jim peeked through one eye. “Couldn’t let Sulu get hurt.”

“So _of course_ you had to jump in front of the fucking _poisoned_ arrow instead, right, instead of _pushing_ him out of the _fucking_ way. Couldn’t use that infamous fucking _brain_ of yours, now, could you,” he snarled. He clenched his jaw, let out a long exhale through his nose, and turned his back to Jim, crossed his arms to stop his hands from shaking, clenched them around his biceps. 

“But ‘m fine, Bones,” Jim pointed out. 

“Because I’m a fucking miracle worker, that’s why,” he snapped, back still to Jim. He needed to get back in control. He swallowed thickly, took another shaky breath, and turned around, slipping into his professional mask. “You’re going to need to rest. No extraneous activity, though I’m sure you can see that, what with your genius IQ.” Okay, so, maybe not _totally_ professional. 

“You gonna mother-hen me?” Jim asked, cracking a weak grin, but Leo didn’t return it, felt his lips thin further. 

He picked up Jim’s chart, clenched it tightly, and pretended to be absorbed with it as he continued, “Don’t even think about getting up in the next couple of days. Hell, don’t even move for the next few hours. You’re going to be under observation 24/7, you’re probably gonna feel like shit, but if anything hurts, you need to let me know.”

“Bones…?” He coughed slightly, tried to shift, and Leo looked at him with wide eyes.

“What part of _don’t move_ do you not understand?” Leo said, putting his hand on Jim’s arm, voice bleeding with more concern and worry than his usual irritation. 

Jim stopped, frowning at him, blinking. He seemed much more awake than before, and Leo refrained from either kissing the shit out of him or punching him in the face. He wasn’t really sure which he felt like doing more, yet. 

He swallowed and pulled back, looking back at the chart, which, shockingly, didn’t have anything new and/or interesting to read. 

“Bones,” Jim rasped, coughed, and continued, “what’s wrong?” 

Leo resisted the urge to laugh hysterically, because was Jim _really_ asking _him_ that? What was _wrong_? _You’re lying in a biobed, too weak to properly move, in pain, because you were poisoned and_ stabbed _a few days back, and you’re askin’_ me _what’s wrong?_ he thought, biting his lip to keep the words in––contrary to popular opinion, he _was_ able to keep his mouth shut––and instead looked away. “Nothing, Jim.”

“Bull––.” Jim cut himself off with a harsh cough, groaning softly in pain, and Leo whipped around, eyebrows furrowed.

Leo’s hand shot out to grasp the handle of the hypospray sitting next to Jim’s biobed. “Dammit, _stop talking_. Just rest, will ya? I’ll give you something for the––.”

Jim shook his head, wincing. “Don’t…don’t need anything.” 

“Like hell you––.”

“Bones, I can handle the pain,” Jim interrupted, giving him his best ‘stern Captain’ voice.

It didn’t work on Leo. “Jim, you’re in pain. Now, I may not be as smart as you or Spock, but I’m pretty sure the thing you’re supposed to prescribe to a patient in pain is––,“ he waved around the hypospray in his hand, loaded with a painkiller, “––a painkiller. Do correct me if I’m wrong.”

“I don’t _like_ painkillers. They make my head go fuzzy,” Jim said, pouting. 

“That’s the point, kid,” Leo said, rolling his eyes, and pressed the hypospray gently to Jim’s neck. Jim made a noise of protest, but Leo, as usual, ignored it. 

“Wha––.”

“It’ll kick in in a few seconds,” Leo said, straightening. With a scowl, he added, “We’ll talk a bit more when you’re awake again, so you just rest your pretty little head.” Then, just for luck, he added, “Infant.”

“Bones,” Jim slurred, glaring at him blearily, “not…not fair. Not just…painkiller. Sedative?”

Leo’s lips twitched. The kid caught on fast. “Oops. My hand slipped.”

“You can’t…” Jim started, but before Leo could find out what it was he couldn’t, Jim’s head lolled back, eyes fluttering shut.

Leo let out a breath. Swallowed heavily. Licked his lips. Then, just to make sure that Jim was still there, he gently brushed the hair off of Jim’s forehead, hand cradling Jim’s cheek for a moment before he snatched it away, cheeks burning. 

Dammit, he needed a drink. 

***

He had just raised the glass to his lips when there was a knock on the door. He sighed and put it down, grumbling out a, “Come in.”

So much for that drink.

Nyota stood there, hands clasped behind her back. She stepped in and raised an eyebrow at the glass of scotch in front of him. Leo raised his own eyebrow in retaliation.

“Nyota,” he said in greeting. “Have a seat.” 

She gave him a small smile and sat down on the seat in front of Leo’s desk. If it were anyone else, Leo’d describe it as ‘plopped down,’ but Nyota made everything look graceful. 

Leo nodded to his glass. “You want a drink?”

Nyota shook her head. “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

Leo toyed with his glass for a second, refusing to meet Nyota’s eyes, before swallowing down the liquid, licking his lips afterward. “If you’re here for Jim, he’s––.”

“I’m not here for him,” Nyota interrupted coolly. “Spock told me he had woken up but was still sleeping.” 

Leo scowled. He should’ve _known_ that pointy-eared bastard wouldn’t let this go. And now, he’d sent his girlfriend to do his bidding. “You’re here for me, then?”

Nyota crossed her legs and leant back, regarding him, hands clasped on her knee. “How perceptive of you.”

Leo leant back and crossed his arms, glowering at her. “Like I told your pointy-eared boyfriend, I’m _fine_.”

Nyota raised her eyebrow. “And like my _pointy-eared boyfriend_ told me, you’re lying.” 

Leo bit the inside of his cheek. He shouldn’t’ve said that. He sighed. “I’ll get some rest, all right? Just give me a second.”

“Nurse Chapel told me you were also taking stims. You shouldn’t be drinking if you are,” she said, with a pointed look at the glass in his hands.

Leo scowled. _Fuck_ Christine. “Can _Nurse Chapel_ stop talkin’ behind my back and talk to me face to face?”

“She says she tried, but you were, and I quote, ‘as stubborn as an ass and a bastard to boot,’ so she stopped trying,” Nyota said, giving him a look.

And he _had_ been a bastard to her. More so than usual. He’d have to make it up to Christine somehow. “Look, I get it, I need some rest, and––.”

“Leonard,” Nyota cut him off, leaning forward, eyebrows furrowed in concern and eyes wide, “you need to look after yourself. I’m worried. We’re _both_ worried. You can’t burn yourself out every time Jim’s hurt.” She bit her lip, leant back a little, and flicked her eyes to the side. “And I understand why you’re so worried right now, but––.”

“And _why_ am I so damn worried right now, Uhura, pray tell?” Leo snarled.

Nyota looked at him. “Because this is the first time he’s gotten seriously injured since Khan, Leonard, that’s why,” she said sharply. “And I _get it_ , all right?” Her voice softened, infused with warmth and concern. “I understand.” 

Leo swallowed, looked away, the concern in her voice almost too much.

There was a pregnant pause. “But that’s not all, is it?” she asked softly. 

Leo clenched his jaw. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.”

Nyota sighed. “Leonard…”

“ _What_?” he snapped, glaring at her, arms crossed against his chest. 

She regarded him for a moment, and Leo felt the urge to look away, curl up within himself, her gaze leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable and all that other shit he hated feeling. “You love him.”

Leo swallowed, cleared his throat. “‘Course I do, he’s my best friend, he’s––.”

“No,” Nyota cut him off, soft but firm. “You _love_ him.”

Leo’s mouth was suddenly dry. He opened it and shut it a few times, licked his lips. Scowled. “An’ what of it?” There was no point in denying it, now. Nyota wasn’t one to buy into bullshit, and he was a shit liar, anyway. 

Nyota pursed her lips. “Are you planning on telling him anytime soon?”

He didn’t even need to think about his answer. “No.”

Nyota sighed. “Leonard…”

“ _No_ , Nyota,” Leo interrupted. He swallowed and continued. “He doesn’t––it doesn’t matter. And no one’s gonna know, either.” He gave her a pointed look.

Nyota looked at him, eyes soft with pity and sadness, and said, “He does love you, even if he may not know it.”

Leo shrugged, had to look away, because it wasn’t true, and boy did he know it. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, now, does it?”

“And _why_ doesn’t it matter, Leonard?”

Leo glared at her, jaw working. “Because I ain’t ever gonna tell him. Obviously. He doesn’t have to know. He _shouldn’t_ know.” 

“ _Leonard_.”

“ _Nyota.”_

“Leonard, you can’t just _not_ tell him––.”

“Sure I can. In fact, I’ll give you a practical demonstration, too,” Leo sniped. 

Nyota glared at him. “Leonard, you’re being illogical and––.”

“Well, guess I’m just an illogical kinda guy,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “This ain’t like you and Spock, Nyota. Stop makin’ it out as if it’s that simple.”

“It _is_ that simple, you’re just overcomplicating it!”

“Nyota, I’m not looking for a romantic relationship. They _don’t work_.”

Nyota’s lips thinned. “You’re saying that Spock and I _don’t work_ , then?”

“Hey, now, don’t you put words in––.”

“You’re saying Hikaru and Pavel don’t work, then?”

Leo opened and shut his mouth. “That’s not––.”

“––what you meant? Well, your words seemed to imply otherwise,” Nyota said, voice cool. She softened her sharp tone as she continued, “Leonard, I understand _why_ you’re so hesitant to initiate some form of a romantic relationship with Jim, but at least think about it. He deserves to know, doesn’t he?” She paused, hesitated. “And I…I’ve observed his actions and words. He…he loves you. He doesn’t know how to say it, but he does. And if you two continue in this way, dancing around each other, both of you will be unhappy.” 

“What’s wrong with _friendship_ , dammit?”

“Nothing,” Nyota replied. “But what you and Jim have is…more.”

“An’ how do _you_ know that, Ms. Exceptional Aural Sensitivity?” Leo snarled.

Nyota blinked at him, probably wondering where the hell that had come from––in fact, Leo would like to know that, too––before saying, “Because I happen to have exceptional eyesight in addition to exceptional aural sensitivity, and because I’m not stupid. Any other embarrassingly obvious questions?”

Leo narrowed his eyes, feeling his cheeks warm. “…I’m not that obvious.” Was he?

“No, but Jim is. To anyone who knows him even a little bit.” She raised her eyebrow. “And you’re not exactly a master of subtlety, either, Leonard.” 

Leo opened and shut his mouth again. Dammit, when the hell had he become a fucking _goldfish_? “Yeah, well, that ain’t–– _no_. Okay? Just _no_.” 

Nyota, damn her, was still cool and collected as she asked, “And why is the possibility of a relationship so daunting, Leonard? Why are you so afraid?” 

Leo snorted. “ ‘Cause I happen to have a lick o’ sense, unlike y’all.” 

“Is that what they’re calling cowardice these days?” she asked, tone pleasant and calm. “Glad to know.”

Leo bristled. “Well, now, don’t call _me_ a coward, Nyota. I am _not_ a coward.”

Nyota raised an eyebrow. “No? Your refusal to face the facts seems to hint otherwise.”

Leo refrained from snapping out an, _Oh, fuck you_. “Nyota, I don’t _want_ a relationship. Can’t you get that through that thick head o’ yours?”

“ _Really_? Because both your actions and your words seem to indicate the exact opposite.”

Leo scowled at her, saying nothing.

Nyota sighed, slumping–– _still_ graceful, damn her––into her chair. “Look, Leonard, I didn’t come here to argue with you about your feelings for Jim. I came here because I pried it out of Spock that you’ve barely slept and ate since Jim’s…accident. You need to rest, Leonard, all right?”

“ _You_ need to rest,” he grumbled.

Nyota raised her eyebrow.

Leonard pursed his lips and gave a crisp nod. “Yeah. Yeah, fine.” 

Nyota nodded. “Good.” She stood up and gave him a small smile. “He’ll be fine, Leonard.”

Leo huffed out a sarcastic laugh through his nose. “Here’s hopin’.” 

“He will.”

Leo looked at her, mouth twisting up at the corner. “If you tell me I just gotta _believe_ , I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Nyota rolled her eyes. “Only Jim would ever say something like that.”

Leo stared at his glass, smile becoming more genuine as he said softly, “Yeah. He would.” He was quiet for a moment, remembering Jim and his idiocy, could almost imagine the wide grin and the exaggerated tone that he’d use, and was interrupted by a small cough.

He snapped his head toward Nyota, cheeks flushing. “Sorry.”

Nyota gave him a sly grin.

“Shut up,” he growled.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Leo narrowed his eyes at her, and she laughed. 

“Bye, Leonard. Comm me when Jim wakes up?” 

“I’m guessing if I do that, I won’t need to comm Spock?” he asked, and this time, he was the one giving her the sly smirk. Though they still had separate quarters, it was no secret that Nyota and Spock spent most of their nights in Spock’s quarters, their spare time attached at the hip.

Nyota bit her lip. “You can at least have the grace to _look_ professional,” she groused, but there was a smile on her lips.

“An’ where’s the fun in that, darlin’?” 

She shook her head, still smiling. “Good _bye_ , Leonard.”

Leo nodded at her, and she walked out of his office. 

Leo sighed, waited for a few moments, and got up, too. He really _did_ need some rest, and if he was going to sleep, he was doing it in his own bed, if that’s what those damned ‘Fleet assigned _cots_ could be called. He stretched, his back popping, ran a hand through his hair, and walked out of his office. 

First, however, he needed to go check up on Jim again. He walked to Jim’s bed––the fucker actually had a _regular_ spot, he was in here so often––only to be greeted by a familiar sight of blonde hair.

“Uhura knock some sense into you, then?” Christine said without turning around. 

“I did learn that a certain Head Nurse loves talkin’ ‘bout me behind my back,” he drawled. 

Christine turned around, eyebrow raised. “Well, if you weren’t so stubborn and cantankerous, I’d have no need to.”

Leo waved his hand in the air. “Yeah, well, you’re lucky you’re so damn good at your job, else I’da gotten rid of you ages ago.”

“It’s not luck, _Doctor_ , it’s skill,” she retorted. 

Leo pursed his lips against the smile threatening to break free. “Sometimes I wonder why I don’t just fire you.”

“No need to wonder. I’ll tell you why right now––I’m damn good at my job, and one of the few able to deal with you.”

Leo shook his head, huffed a laugh through his nose. He gestured toward Jim with his chin. “How is he?”

“Stable,” Christine replied. She looked him in the eye. “Seems like he’ll make a full recovery. Always does.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything,” he muttered, walking forward, reaching out a hand to brush hair away from Jim’s forehead before remembering that Christine was _right there_ and retracting it, cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat and straightened. “Right.”

Christine rolled her eyes. “Honestly,” she muttered under her breath, and walked away. Without turning around, she called, “I’m going to go check inventory, and when I get back, Doctor, I sincerely hope you’re in your quarters and not still standing there.”

“You orderin’ me around, Chapel?” he called.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked. “Just a suggestion. A _logical_ one, don’t you think?”

“A logical––,” Leo grumbled, scowling. “I’ll show _you_ logical.” He turned back to Jim and reached out his hand, expression softening, brushing the hair off Jim’s forehead, fingers lingering on Jim’s cheek. He slid his hand down further and checked Jim’s pulse, knowing he was alive, knowing he wasn’t gone, but needing to make sure anyway. 

“Idiot,” he said softly, swallowing as he gazed at Jim’s peaceful, sleeping face. He still looked like death warmed over, but at least he wasn’t _actually_ dead. Leo took a shuddering breath and ran a hand through his hair, passing it over his face and resting it atop his mouth as he just looked, reminding himself that this _wasn’t_ like last time, Jim wasn’t dead.

_But for how much longer? How long until Jim does get himself killed?_ He couldn’t bring back Jim next time––it had been a one in a million thing, what Leo’d done, only possible because Jim’s body hadn’t completely shut down, because there was still life in him, fighting and struggling, which was just like Jim, wasn’t it? Never one to give up without a fight, the stubborn ass.

Starfleet had confiscated all his research, his serum, had taken it all from Leo, and Leo hadn’t complained, was just glad that his medical license hadn’t been revoked, was just glad that Jim was alive, breathing, warm, standing next to him.

And Jim didn’t _get it_. He didn’t understand how precious his life was, how valuable, how lost Leo would be without him. For a genius, Jim Kirk was a fucking _idiot_. An all too fallible one. Leo had half a mind to wrap him up in bubble wrap and never let him leave his quarters.

Leo clenched his jaw and ran his hand through his hair again, turned sharply on his heel and walked away, pausing on the way. He turned around and hesitated for only a second before picking up a sedative. He knew he’d need it.  

***

_The body bag is on the table. Leo knows who it is, but still goes up to it and unzips it. Jim’s lying there, pale and serene, and Leo feels the breath leave his body._

_“No,” he whispers, stumbling back as if he’s been hit, eyes wide. “No, I––.”_

_Jim sits up, swings his legs off the table. His eyelids flutter open, eyes unnaturally blue in stark contrast to his pallor. He opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a horrible gurgling sound, blood gushing out of his mouth as he looks at Leo with terrified eyes, clutching his stomach, and there’s so much blood, so much_ blood _, and Leo rushes toward Jim, tries to reach out, but he can’t, he fucking can’t, he's trying so hard, but he can’t_ get to Jim _, why can’t he get to Jim, and––._

_“Jim!” he sobs, and Jim slumps forward, expression one of shock and fear, body falling to the ground, and Leo feels the tears pouring down his face as he struggles forward, sees the blood pouring out from Jim’s wounds, fights agains the invisible force keeping him away, finally gains the upper hand. He struggles to Jim’s side, clutches him close. “No, no, no, I won’t let you die, you’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be okay, darlin’,” he rambles. “You’re fine, you’re okay, you’re––”_

_“––too late,” Jim rasps, eyes burning sapphire blue as he looks up at Leo. “You’re too late, Bones. Why couldn’t you save me?”_

_“No, I––Jim,_ Jim! _” he yells, but Jim’s gone, no longer in his arms, and all he’s left with are stains of red red_ red _, painting his arms and hands, sticking to his shirt, covering his uniform, and no, no, God, please, no, don’t take Jim, don’t take Jim, please, oh, God, please, don’t––_

Leo woke with a start, sweating and tangled in his sheets, face wet, Jim’s name on his lips. He clenched the sheets in his fist and gulped down breaths, tried to calm his hammering pulse, because Jim was okay, Jim was fine, Jim––Jim was _alive_.

He wrenched the sheets off and stumbled to the comm, but stopped himself from hailing Christine just in time. He needed to get a goddamn grip. He couldn’t just hail his Head Nurse, wild-eyed and teary, to ask after his Captain because he’d had a _bad dream_. He wiped his face and took a breath, licked his lips. Jim was fine. Jim was okay. He’d just checked up on him––Leo glanced at the chronometer––eight hours ago. 

But eight hours was a long time. Anything could’ve happened in eight hours. Oh, God, he needed to make sure Jim was okay, needed to make sure––.

_Dammit, calm the fuck down. Get a grip._ He stumbled back to his bed and plopped down heavily, stuffed his head into his hands, took a deep breath. His eyes burned, and he wrapped his arms around his midsection, bit his lip, because, dammit, he wasn’t going to cry. He _wasn’t_ going to _cry_. He took another shuddering breath––it was more of a sob, really––and held his head once more as his shoulders started shaking, as the tears started streaming down his face.

_Damn_ Jim.

***

Before he left his quarters, he made sure he was scrubbed and clean. He shaved off his growing stubble, combed his hair, and took a shower in what felt like forever. His eyes were no longer red-rimmed, thank God for that, and it was the most sleep he’d gotten in a long time––eight whole hours. He stared at himself in the mirror for a second, scowling at his reflection before stomping out of the bathroom, out of his quarters, and back to Sickbay. 

When he got there, he made a beeline for Jim’s bed, only to find Sulu sitting there, talking quietly to a conscious Jim. Sulu was saying something, fists clenched by his sides, and Jim was looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, frown on his face as he shook his head. He was looking better, less pale, but still tired. Leo felt the threads of dread still clinging onto him after the dream dissipate.  

“…be stupid, Sulu. It wasn’t your fault,” Leo heard Jim say as he walked closer. 

“Rationally, Captain, I know that, but…”

“I’m going to be _fine_. I’m the one that pushed you out of the way, right? You didn’t exactly use me as a human shield, now, did you?” Jim said, cracking a weak smile.

Leo wondered whether or not he should interrupt, but Jim made the choice for him.

“Bones!” he called out, grin widening into an imitation of his usual blinding smile. 

Sulu whirled around and looked at Leo, eyes wide. “Doctor.” 

Leo nodded at Sulu. “Sulu.” He gestured toward Jim with his chin. “Sorry, but I think I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ve gotta check up on him.” 

“Oh, of––of course,” Sulu said, almost tripping as he made haste to get away. Before crossing Leo, he stopped for a second, and said, almost imperceptibly, “I’m sorry.”

Leo looked at him, his best ‘what the fuck are you _talking_ about?’ expression on his face. “For what?”

Sulu hesitated before jerking his thumb at Jim, eyes downcast.

Leo’s expression softened. “Wasn’t your fault, kid. Jim’s just…Jim,” he said with a sigh. He gave Sulu a sharp look before saying, “Now, unless you’re here for a check-up, Lieutenant, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” And then, softer, but still just as gruff, “And don’t bother your fool head over our Captain’s heroics, here.”

Sulu looked at Leo and swallowed, nodded. “Of course, Doctor.” He turned toward Jim’s bed and nodded. “Captain.”

“Dismissed, Lieutenant,” Jim said, lips curled upward. 

Sulu nodded once more at Leo before walking out of Sickbay, strides assured and graceful. Leo watched him leave for a moment––the whole damn ship was full of idiots intent on blaming themselves for shit they couldn’t control; _geniuses_ his ass––before turning to Jim.

Jim looked up at him, warmth in his eyes, and Leo found his expression softening of its own accord. “How ya doin’, Jim?” he asked as he moved closer, scanning the readings. Everything _looked_ pretty good, and Leo breathed an internal sigh of relief. 

“Pretty good,” Jim answered. 

Leo _looked_ at him.

“Okay, fine, not pretty good,” Jim rectified with a sheepish look. “Kinda feel like shit, actually, but better than before.”

“Uh-huh,” Leo muttered, squinting as he gave him a once over, arms crossed, and he felt his jaw clench as he saw how _weak_ Jim looked. Pale, thinner, dark circles beneath the eyes, blond hair having lost its luster––Jim looked like shit. 

He bit his tongue, kept himself from letting loose the words of reprimand that were begging to come forth, knowing that by the end, he’d end up rambling at best and crying at worst. Either way, he’d end up letting too much known and wouldn’t be able to control himself. 

He never had been able to control himself when Jim was concerned. He’d followed the little shit out to _space_ , for Christ’s sake _._

“So, uh,” Jim said. He cleared his throat, gave him a sheepish look. “This the part where you lecture me?”

Leo clenched his jaw, face devoid of emotion as he intoned, “Everything seems to be in order. You will, however, need to rest. You’re going to––.”

“Bones?” Jim interrupted, brows furrowed. “You okay?”

Leo looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if to say, ‘are _you_ really gonna ask me that?’

Jim stared back at him, chin jutting out in defiance, as if to say, ‘fuck, yeah, I _am_.’

Leo rolled his eyes. “ ‘M fine, Jim.”

“You don’t… _seem_ fine.”

Leo sighed. “As I was _saying_ , you’re going to be under observation 24/7, and you won’t be able to leave Sickbay for at least a few more days.” He paused, took in Jim’s wary yet bewildered expression. “Any questions?” he asked, more sarcastic than he’d intended.

“Just…one,” Jim said, hesitant. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Bones?”

Leo glared at him, opened his mouth to let loose his tirade––didn’t he knowwhat he’d done? Didn’t he _get_ Leo couldn’t fucking _handle_ this?––before shutting it, because Jim _didn’t_ understand, and Leo doubted he could make him, not right now, not without revealing too much. Instead, he pursed his lips, crossed his arms. “If you need anything, you know what to do.” He turned on his heel and started walking to his office, stiff and tense.

“Hey, wai––Bones!” Jim called out, but Leo ignored him and steamrolled on ahead. “ _Bones_!”

Zara, the nurse currently on duty, looked at Leo and then behind him. Leo stopped in front of her and said, “Unless he’s dying, don’t call me. Ignore him, okay?” 

“What the _hell_ , Bones?” Jim called out from behind him, and Leo pretended he didn’t currently exist. It was surprisingly easy. 

Zara looked at him, brown eyes wide. “I—all right, Doctor.” 

Leo nodded at her in thanks and continued on her way.

“Is it — ,” she started, and Leo turned around. She glanced up at him before looking back at Jim, eyes resting on Leo. “Would it be presumptuous of me to ask why, Doctor?”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t _have_ to explain to her why, but Zara was a good nurse. Leo didn’t want to rub her the wrong way. Then again, it was none of her damn business. “He’s just—.” Leo waved his arm around. Cleared his throat. “Y’know.” 

Zara looked at him for a second longer before nodding slowly. “Ah. I see.” She paused. “I won’t bother you unless he’s dying, then.”

Leo paused. “Well, when I say that, I mean––.”

“I won’t bother you unless he’s in actual need of medical assistance,” Zara rectified, lips curled into a small, understanding smile. “The kind a nurse can’t handle.”

Leo nodded. “Thanks.” He turned around and walked to his office, plopping himself down in his chair, bringing out the paperwork that needed to be filed, fastidiously ignoring all the weird looks he’d gotten—and was still getting—from the staff. 

It wasn’tany of their damn business.

***

Though he wasn’t proud to say it, Leo had been…well, he’d been avoiding Jim the past couple of weeks. 

It wasn’t _completely_ intentional. It was just that every time he saw Jim, he’d feel a surge of emotion rise up within him, so strong, so _immediate_ , Leo knew he wouldn’t be able to stop something incriminating from pouring out of his mouth. He was pissed as hell, of course, but this was different, stronger, dangerous. Anger, Leo could handle. Hell, anger was his fuel. He was more than okay with anger. But this was different, this time was different, and _he_ didn’t even know why, so how could he tell Jim? How could he explain to Jim that he wanted to walk away from everyone and everything, walk away from the responsibility of having to sit back and watch and wait as Jim ran around battling death every fucking _day?_ How could he tell Jim that Leo know, he _knew_ the day would come when he’d have to watch Jim bleed out on the table, the day would come when he’d be too slow, too incompetent, _not good enough_ , and he couldn’t handle that, he couldn’t fucking handlethat? How could he explain the mere thought of leaving Jim, of losing him, of leaving the Enterprise, his _family_ ––because that was what they’d become, a fucking family—tore at his heart, made his chest ache? 

He couldn’t. 

So, he’d been avoiding Jim.And drinking more often, too, alone, but no one needed to know that. 

He’d just retired to his quarters, feet propped on the table, glass of bourbon in hand, intent on _relaxing,_ when there was a knock on his door.

He ignored it, hoping whoever it was would get the message and go the fuck away.

There was the sound of the door swooshing open, and Leo only had time to think, _Oh_ , _fuck_ , before Jim was standing in front of him, eyes narrowed in a glare, flicking from the glass in Leo’s hand to his face. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Leo snorted. “Well, hello to you, too.” He moved his feet off the table and sat up straight. So much for relaxing. 

“ _Why_?” 

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” Leo said as he took a sip, voice calm.

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” Jim snapped. “You’ve been avoiding me, ever since I got hurt a couple weeks back.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” 

“ _Bones._ ” There was a warning in Jim’s voice, but Leo’d never been really good at paying attention to those.

“Like I said, dunno what you’re talkin’ about, kid,” he said, staring back at Jim defiantly. 

“Like _hell_ you don’t,” Jim snarled, and he moved closer, leant down and placed his palms on the table, stared into Leo’s eyes. Suddenly, he slumped, just a bit, expression the same but his eyes wide and vulnerable as he asked, “Did I do something wrong? What did I do wrong?” 

“What? No!” Leo leaned back, looked at Jim with wide eyes and incredulous eyebrows. “What the––how in the hell do you think _that_?”

Jim looked so goddamn _young_ , like a puppy that’d just been kicked, like the kid that Leo always called him. “You’re––you’re not talking to me.” He licked his lips, slid his gaze away, straightened. “At all. And I don’t…” He looked back at Leo, helpless and wide-eyed, a raw desperation in his voice as he asked, “What did I do? How’d I fuck up?”

Leo licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. “Aw, hell, kid,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “It’s not––it’s not you. You didn’t do anything.” He gazed at Jim, eyes soft as he repeated softly, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jim.” 

“Then––then…what? ‘It’s not you, it’s me’? Are you––Bones, do you not want to––to––to be my friend anymore or something?” Jim rambled, straightening up, wincing a little bit, probably as he went over what he’d just said. He started pacing back and forth in front of the table, arms gesticulating as he continued, “Because I’m sorry if I did something, I don’t _know_ , and I’m sorry, but if you don’t––.” He cut himself off, swallowed thickly and turned to look at Leo, jaw clenched and eyes wet with unshed tears, avoiding Leo’s gaze, shoulders stiff as he said tersely, “If you don’t––you don’t have to stay. With me. Or whatever. I’m not going to force you to be––be––be _friends_ with me, or whatever. You don’t––don’t have to do that. I can take it.” 

Leo stared at Jim, agape. How in the hell…? How in the hell did Jim––the fuck was the kid on about? Dammit, Leo should’ve _known_ Jim would’ve taken his silence this way. The kid had abandonment issues as big as the Enterprise itself. Of _course_ he’d take Leo’s silence the wrong way. 

But did Jim _really_ think Leo could just _leave_ him like that? Bullshit. Leo couldn’t leave the stupid son of a bitch behind even if he tried. 

“Kid, this isn’t––.”

“It’s _okay,_ Bo––Leonard.” The name sounded _wrong_ coming from Jim’s lips. “I mean, you don’t––.”

“No, I don’t––.”

“It’s _fine_ , it’s not––.”

“Dammit, Jim, shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down!” Leo burst out, standing up and glaring at Jim, nostrils flaring. 

Jim shut his mouth, pressed it into a tight line, and then stared at Leo for a second before stomping around the table and plopping down onto the sofa, arms crossed, glaring at Leo.

“ _What_?” he snapped. 

Leo sat down more slowly; ran a hand over his face; breathed. “Look, kid…” He twisted his mouth a little, staring ahead as he started again. “Jim. I ain’t gonna _leave_ you. I don’t want to stop being your ‘best friend.’” He gave a wry smirk. “Hell, couldn’t stop that even if I tried.” He turned to look at Jim. “So, yeah, it _ain’t_ you, it’s me. I’m just…” He sighed and bit his lip. “Just bein’ a little silly, is all.”

“I noticed.” 

Leo turned to him and glared. “Like you’re bein’ any better,” he snapped. 

Jim held his gaze for a moment before ducking his head, looking away. “Yeah, well,” he said softly, “I didn’t exactly know what to think, y’know?”

Leo swallowed against the sudden guilt welling up within him. He shouldn’t’ve done that to Jim. “Well, you shoulda known better.” He cleared his throat and stared ahead. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, kid. I’ve put up with enough of your shit to at least prove _that_.”

He could feel Jim’s gaze on him. There was a moment of silence, and then Jim said, too soft, too vulnerable, “What if my shit gets too much?” 

Leo snapped his head toward Jim, glowering. “If you think that, you’re an even bigger idiot’n you look.” Seeing the way Jim had hunched up on himself, how he was avoiding Leo’s gaze, staring at the ugly carpet on the floor, Leo sighed, expression softening. Heart thumping in his chest, he grasped Jim’s chin, tugging gently so he could see the raw vulnerability, raw fear in his blue, blue eyes. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, kid. Ever.” He swallowed heavily and dropped his hand. Looked away. After a moment, he huffed a sarcastic laugh through his nose. “Funny I have to tell _you_ that,” he muttered, grabbing the bottle on the table and pouring himself two––four fingers, the familiar bitterness rising up within him. Here he was, reassuring _Jim_ he wasn’t going anywhere, when it hadn’t been _him_ lying on a biobed, pale as death, back from yet another brush with death just a few weeks back. When it wasn’t _him_ who had an affinity for being a self-sacrificing moron. He clenched his jaw, could feel his emotions getting out of control again. He brought the glass to his lips and gulped down the bourbon, wincing at the burn, grateful for it.

“…What?”

Leo glared ahead, tightened his hold on the glass as he got out through gritted teeth, “Nothing.”

Jim touched his leg, scooted closer, studied him as he asked, “No, Bones, _what_? What’s wrong?”

Leo snapped his head toward him. “ _Nothing_ ,” he snarled, regretting it as soon as the words flew from his mouth. Damn it. There was no way in hell Jim was letting it go _now_. 

Jim frowned at him. “Well, obviously it’s not nothing.”

Leo pursed his lips. “Leave it, Jim.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, as if to say, _You really think that’s gonna happen?_

Leo glowered harder, as if to say, _Yeah, it is_.

Jim searched his face, brows furrowed in puzzlement. “…I _did_ do something, didn’t I?”

Leo gritted his teeth, never hating Jim’s stupid _intuition_ more. “No.”

“Yeah, okay, so I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that because––.”

“That’s what you always do, isn’t it?” Leo burst out. “Just _pretend it didn’t happen_.”

Jim leaned back, lips parting. “…What?”

Leo shifted on the sofa so his whole body faced Jim. “You just ignore _everything,_ don’tcha? So fucking good at it, too. Just _pretend_ it didn’t _happen_. That makes it okay. That means it’s going to be okay, right?” 

Jim’s eyes scanned his face. “Bones, I don’t––what are you saying?”

_Good question_. He didn’t even know what he was saying, but he still couldn’t just shut the hell up. _Shutting up_ had never been one of Leo’s strong suits. “Well, of _course_ you don’t know what I’m talking about, you just fucking _ignore_ it all. Well, I _can’t_.”

“Bones, you’re not––.”

But Leo was on a roll. “You come back bloody, bruised, poisoned, _dying_ , and I can’t fucking _take it_ anymore, Jim, because I can’t just sit back while you endanger yourself recklessly and get yourself killed. I won’t be able to help you one day, Jim, I’ll be too slow, not good enough, I can’t bring you back from the fucking _dead_.” His chest was heaving, eyes burning, arms gesticulating wildly, and he clenched his jaw, swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “I can’t _do that_ , Jim,” he whispered hoarsely. He shook his head, continued in a lower tone, “I can’t lose you.”

Jim’s eyes were wide, lips parted, and Leo threw back the rest of his alcohol, looked away. 

“But…but you fix me up. That’s what you _do_ , Bones,” Jim said, soft, unsure. 

“Hadn’t noticed,” Leo answered with a wry twist of his lips. He turned to look at Jim. “Dammit, Jim,” he said, and his voice broke as he said, “You almost _died_.” He looked away before it became too obvious there were unshed tears in his eyes, gritting his teeth and breathing through his nose. 

“…I don’t…I’m…” Jim floundered for words but didn’t say anything more. After a while, as Leo swallowed down his tears, shoved them back, tried to get angry again––anger was familiar, anger was better, anger was _safe––_ Jim said, so softly Leo wasn’t sure he’d heard it, “I’m sorry.”

Leo looked at him, shoulders slumped as he asked, “Do you even know why, Jim?” 

Jim shook his head, licked his lips as he looked at Leo with wide, earnest eyes. “I don’t, but I’m still sorry, Bones. I don’t _ever_ want you to feel like…” He waved his arm at Leo. “This.” 

Leo ran a hand over his face. Let out a small laugh. “You offering to stay in your quarters wrapped up in bubble-wrap, then?” 

“Hey, if that’s what it takes.” Jim’s tone was light, easy, but his eyes were serious, lips strained in a parody of his usual smile.

“Yeah, well, thanks. But we both know you can’t do that. Can’t stop bein’ the goddamn hero.” He reached for the bottle again, intent on pouring himself another drink––he was too sober for this shit––but Jim’s hand stopped him.

“How many’ve you had, Bones?” 

“Only poured myself a drink as you barged in,” Leo said, glaring first at Jim and then at the hand that was on his wrist. 

“No.” Jim made eye contact. “How many _bottles_ have you had in the past couple of weeks, Bones?”

“Not enough,” he snapped, but he knew as soon as he said it, it was the wrong thing to say.

Jim leaned back, taking his wrist with him, and studied Leo, and _fuck_ , he had that _look_ about him, that _I am going to figure this out_ one which Leo really hated sometimes. “You told me you _hate_ that bourbon. It was a bottle from Jocelyn after the finalization of your divorce. You told me you’d never touchthat bottle even if there were nothing to drink. You have a shitton of alcohol, and you’d never touch _that_ unless you had literally none left.You told me that that you only kept it to remind yourself of why, and I quote, ‘never to fall in love.’” He paused and pursed his lips. “And you’re drinking it.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly do a good job reminding me, now, did it?” he snapped. “And it’s none of your goddamn business, Jim, so stop prying.” He stopped. “And when the hell did I tell _you_ that?”

He’d opened up the bottle because there hadn’t been any other goddamn alcohol for him to drink, not unless he asked others for theirs, and he wasn’t going to do _that_ because he knew it would raise suspicion. The only drinking buddies he really had were Jim and Scotty, from time to time, and it was always _his_ alcohol that was used. He was very particular. 

Jim waved his hand. “You were drunk. But that’s not the point. It _is_ my business, Bones. You’ve been drinking too much.” He regarded Leo in that weird, x-ray stare of his Leo _hated,_ because it felt as if he were reading your goddamn mind. Jim narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he asked, “And what did you mean, it didn’t do a good job reminding you?” His eyes widened, and Leo winced internally. _Fuck_. Jim knew. “Are you…you’re in _love_?” He was looking at Leo as if he’d just grown another head. 

Leo snatched his hand back, snarling, “No.”

Jim sat frozen, and then, suddenly, his shoulders slumped, and he looked away, but not before Leo caught the look of dejection, of heartbreak on his face. “ _That’s_ why you’ve been avoiding me.” 

“What–– _no_ , that’s not––,” Leo spluttered.

Jim turned back to him, smiling widely, and he clapped Leo on the shoulder, but his smile was strained, his ‘friendly’ clap too hard. “Good for you, Bones. Shoulda guessed, huh? She’s a lucky girl.” He shot up out of his seat, smile too-wide. “You should tell me all about her, but I gotta go now, y’know, Captain-ly shit to do, but I––.”

Leo yanked him back down, glared hard at him as he snarled, “Weren’t you fucking _listening_ , you fucking _moron_? I was avoiding you because you’re a reckless idiot who never thinks about himself, never realizes how much he meansto everyone, to _me._ You’re never fucking careful, you don’t fucking _realize_ that if––if you _died_ , Jim, you asshole, I don’t know what I’d do. You fucking piece of shit, I _hate_ you. Do you have _any_ idea what kind of hell you put me through every time you prance off to play hero? I sit here, wondering if I’ll ever get to see you again, you _asshole_ , and then you come back, pale as death and bleeding from a fucking stabwound and _poisoned_ , and you act as if it’s okay, it’s all right, because you _couldn’t let Sulu get hurt_. You don’t know how much you’re _worth_ , Jim, and you sure as hell better start, because I can’t dealwith you putting yourself at risk every fucking chance to prove something that we already _know_.”

Jim was staring at Leo with wide eyes, frozen in place, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Leo wasn’t to be stopped. His anger was coursing through him, he wasn’t going to wait.

“And I’m not in love with some _woman_ , you moronic dumbass, I’m in love with _you_ , God help me,” he ranted. Then, he realized what he’d said. The color drained from his face, and he stared at Jim with wide eyes, mouth working. “ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed. “Shit, Jim, I’m sorry, that wasn’t meant to––.” He swallowed and looked away; ran a hand through his hair, clutched it. Dammit. _Dammit_. He hadn’t meant for that to come out, knew there was now way in hell Jim would––or ever _could_ ––feel the same way, knew he’d fucked up their friendship. God fucking _dammit_ , he should’ve kept his stupid mouth shut, he shouldn’t have said anything. 

He sighed and straightened, looked over to Jim to apologize, to offer to pretend this never happened, but Jim was just _staring_ at him, like a deer caught in headlights. 

“…You… _what_?” Jim’s words were dropped from numb lips, incredulous, disbelieving. 

Leo’s heart stuttered to a stop. “Shit––fuck, I’m sorry, we can––we can just pretend I didn’t say that, all right? I just––I didn’t say nothin’.” 

Jim looked at Leo as if he were seeing him for the first time, and Leo winced, wanting to looking away but unable to. Oh, God. Oh, _God_. Jim was going to leave him. Jim was going to _leave_ him, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. 

Jim looked at him, dawning realization on his face. “You _love_ me,” he breathed.

“Jim, God, I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to––,” Leo started, desperation coloring his voice because he _couldn’t lose Jim_ , but Jim wasn’t listening to him.

“You… _love_ me,” he interrupted, testing out the words. He studied Leo as he repeated, eyebrows furrowed, “You love me. You…love me?” He scrunched up his nose. “ _Me_?” 

Leo, having been about to start on a tirade about how could they please just pretend this had never happened and go back the way it was, thank you very much, paused. Well. _That_ wasn’t what he’d expected. “No, Jim, I just said that for shits and giggles,” he said, wincing afterward because he _really_ shouldn’t be using sarcasm right now, but unable to stop himself.

“But…people…people don’t _love me_ , Bones,” Jim pointed out, and he was flicking his eyes around, leaning back, trying to get away.

Leo furrowed his brows. “Everyone loves you.”

Jim gave a nervous laugh. Shook his head. “No. No, Bones, they _don’t_.” He stared at Leo, voice raw as he said, “Bones, people don’t _love me_.” 

Leo licked his lips. There was no way in hell he was ever getting out of this one. Jim would never be willing to let this go. Things would never go back to the way they had been. So, really, there was no point in lying now, was there? Everything was going to shit, anyway. Might as well lay it all bare. “Yeah, well, I ain’t just people,” Leo sighed. “An’ that right there is my problem.” 

Jim, with wide eyes, looked over Leo’s face. “Shit. Shit, you’re _serious_.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Leo growled. Could Jim please get on with the consequent ‘we can’t be friends anymore’ and be done with it? Leo didn’t want to fucking drag this out anymore than he had to.

“Fuck. _Fuck_.” Jim ran a hand through his hair, shifted in his seat so he was facing forward, shifted back so his chest was toward Leo. He leaned in. “Am I––is this, like, some sort of hallucination?” 

The _fuck_? 

“Because are––Bones, are you _serious_?” Jim shifted once more, mouth opening and closing. “You–– _love me_?”

Leo pursed his lips and nodded his head.

“Oh my God. Oh my God, you’re crazy.” Jim tittered, avoiding Leo’s eyes. “You _love me_.” 

Leo scowled. “Yeah, well, told you being on this tin-can was drivin’ me insane, didn't I?” Leo swallowed and cleared his throat. “But, yeah. I do. I guess.”

“Fuck, are you _real_?” Jim breathed, eyes alight with awe as he slowly reached out, dragged a finger across Leo’s cheek.

Leo stiffened. He drew away from Jim’s finger, swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Dammit, Jim, stop dicking around. Are we––where do we stand? I’m guessin’ me asking you to forget this ain’t gonna happen, so––what? What’re we gonna do?”

Jim smiled real wide, almost goofily. “You love me.” 

Leo scowled. Jim wasn’t taking this _seriously_. “What are you, high? Drunk? Or just stupid?”

“Bones.” Jim’s smile was less wide but just as fond. He shook his head, and the way he looked at Leo––it made something disgustingly akin to hope blossom within his chest, made Leo’s mouth dry. “You talk too much.”

“I–– _excuse me_? _I_ talk too much? What the fuck are you trying to say, Jim? You wanna try making sense, because I don’t know––.”

And then Jim kissed him. And Leo realized that it was really very okay with him that he _didn’t know_ because Jim was kissing him, on the mouth, all reckless passion and demanding tongue, licking at his lips until Leo gave way, shifting to press closer to Leo’s body, wrapping his hand in Leo’s hair while the other trailed down his side, until all Leo’s world was reduced to was _Jim_ , his scent, his feel, his touch.

Jim was a rude, demanding fucker, and Leo found he didn’t mind as much as he should’ve. 

He didn’t know what the fuck was going on––Jim was kissinghim; _why_?––, but Leo also decided he could give just as good as he got. He pushed back against Jim, crowding him against the couch’s arm, hands running down his shirt, up his chest, exploring Jim’s back. Jim groaned into Leo’s mouth, and Leo took the opportunity to shove his tongue in further, taking control of the kiss. He surfaced for air and nipped at Jim’s lower lip, tugging gently before trailing down his throat, tugging on Jim’s short, golden hair to allow better access. He latched onto Jim’s fluttering pulse and sucked, not hard, not yet, and Jim let out a soft, “ _Fuck_.” 

Leo pulled back, swiped his tongue across his bottom lip as he took in Jim’s flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, kiss-swollen lips, and almost jumped right back in. He reminded himself that he was a _grown man_ and could control his fucking hormones for five seconds to actually have a conversation, but then Jim surged forward, pushed him back, straddled his hips, and kissed him. 

Leo turned his head, trying to break the kiss. “Wait, no––.” 

“Bones. _Seriously_. Shut up,” Jim breathed, brilliant blue irises almost swallowed up by the black of his pupil, and kissed him again.

Leo allowed the kiss to continue, because, _damn_ , he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Jim knew _exactly_ what he was doing, licking and nipping and sucking in just the right way, kissing him the same way he did everything––brilliantly, with a dogged determination, intensely. 

“Shit, Jim,” Leo said, pulling back, feeling justa bit dizzy––not that he’d ever admit it, not even at the threat of death––and laid a hand on Jim’s chest to stop him following.

Jim made a discontent noise in the back of his throat, tried to struggle forward.

“No, wait, _stop_.” When Jim didn’t listen, he adopted his Doctor Voice, the one he used to deal with unruly patients and disobedient staff members—commanding, no-nonsense, calm. “Jim, stop.”

Jim stopped, mouth parting. 

_Huh_. Well. He’d have to explore this later. Leo forced himself back to what he was doing. “Jim, we need to talk about this, before we start rutting like teenagers.”

“Dunno, Bones, rutting like teenagers sounds pretty good to me,” Jim said, licking his lips. 

Leo scowled. “Jim, I’m _serious_.”

Jim wriggled a bit, and Leo’s breath hitched. Jim smirked. “Me, too.” 

Leo swallowed. “Dammit, Jim. What does this––does this mean you…y’know.” He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but everything that was going on––well, he highly doubted this was Jim’s way of letting him down gently. At least, he hoped not. 

Jim ducked his head, the tips of his ears growing pinker. “I. Um. Yes? I guess?” 

Leo grasped Jim’s chin and forced him to look at him. “Jim,” he said softly. 

Jim licked his lips. Said in a soft voice, “Yeah, Bones. I think I do.” 

Leo felt the grin growing on his face, didn’t bother trying to stop it. “Yeah?”

Jim bit his lip and looked to the side. His cheeks were pink, and he swallowed once, twice, thrice before giving a jerky nod.  

Leo turned his head, leant in, and kissed him, slow and sweet, the opposite of their previous heated, hurried exchanges. Jim melted into it. 

Leo rested his forehead on Jim’s, stared into his eyes and whispered, “Good.”

They stayed like that only for a moment before Jim leant back, looking down at Leo. “So, I’m all for the whole, uh, sappy-eye-contact thing you’ve got goin’ on, but I think we should seriously start moving things along, you know?” he said.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Ya sure know how to charm a guy, Jim.”

Jim wriggled his eyebrows. “Let me show you _exactly_ how charming I can be, Bones.” 

Leo gave him a deadpan stare. “Sorry, kid. Not impressed.”

Jim ground down on him, leant in and whispered, “You sure?”

Leo bit his lip to keep the startled groan inside. “Positive,” he answered, surprised at the amount of calm in his voice. 

Jim licked his way down the side of Leo’s jaw, down his throat, mumbling into his skin, “You _sure_ you’re sure?”

Leo tugged at his shirt. “Off. Now.”

Jim leaned back and smirked at Leo. “That’s what I thought.”

“ _Jim_ ,” Leo growled. 

“All right, all right, calm down,” Jim soothed patronizingly, still smirking like the idiot he was. He tugged off his shirt, smoldered––actually fucking _smoldered_ , Jesus, this kid––at Leo, and opened his mouth.

Leo had had enough of that. Before Jim could say another word, he shoved him down across the couch and climbed on top of him. Jim let out and indignant squawk, and it was Leo’s turn to smirk. He kissed his way up Jim’s chest, causing his breath to hitch.

“Just shut up and look pretty,” Leo said, latching onto Jim’s pulse point and sucking.

Jim sucked in a breath. “’S not like I––ah––can turn it off. I’m always pretty.”

Leo leant back and looked down at Jim, eyebrow raised. “But then you open your mouth and ruin the picture,” Leo drawled.

Jim pulled him down into a kiss. “I think you meant I open my _pretty_ mouth and ruin the picture, right?” he breathed, smirking.

“Jesus,” Leo huffed. “I should fucking gag you.” 

Jim’s pupils dilated even further, cheeks flushing darker. “Please. You’d miss me talking too much.”

The physical reaction hadn’t gone amiss. Leo raised an eyebrow. Well. It _was_ Jim. Kinky should’ve been expected. “Keep dreaming.”

“But reality’s so much _better_ ,” Jim quipped in an overdramatic tone, wriggling his eyebrows.

Leo ran his thumb across Jim’s lower lip. “Yeah.” He looked into Jim’s eyes. “It might be.”

Jim’s breath hitched, eyes widening, and then he turned his head away. He swallowed. “Damn, Bones,” he joked, but he still couldn’t make eye contact. “Who knew you were such a romantic?”

Leo kissed his way up Jim’s neck, captured his earlobe with his teeth and tugged gently. “Get used to it.” He ran his hands over Jim’s chest, mapping and spanning the plane, over ribs, abs, pecs, deltoids, pinching a nipple, memorizing the feel and the texture.

Jim shifted beneath him, chest heaving, mouth having fallen open. “ _Bones_.”

Leo ignored him, repeated his exploration using his mouth. 

By the time he was done, Jim was a writhing, panting mess beneath him, his hand wrapped into Leo’s hair. “Bones. _Fuck,_ Bones, what’re you _waiting_ for?”

Leo leant back and raised an eyebrow, licked his lips as he saw the picture Jim made, flushed and mussed, lips swollen, pupils fully dilated. Jim made a noise of protest in the back of his throat, tried to follow Leo, but Leo stopped him with a hand on the chest because he had a point to make. “Well, now that you mention it,” he drawled, “an engraved invitation would be nice.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “ _Bones_ ,” he growled. “I swear to god, if you don’t––.”

“Don’t _what_ , Jim?” Leo cut him off, eyebrow raised, tone calm and controlled. He wanted to try something, and if he was right… _well_. He cupped Jim’s cheek, swiped his thumb over it, and said, softer, “You don’t give the orders here, _Captain_.”

“ _Christ._ ” Jim’s eyes were wide as he stared at Leo, his voice strained as he added, “Fuck. That is _not_ fair.”

Leo allowed himself the smug smirk that had been threatening to break free and kissed Jim, licking his way into Jim’s mouth until Jim melted into the kiss, letting Leo take what he wanted. He pulled away slowly. “Just lie there an’ take it, darlin’. Lemme take care of you.” He made no attempt at reigning back his accent. 

Jim made a noise in the back of his throat, lips parted, and Leo reached down to unbutton his pant and tugged at them. Jim raised his hips, his erection, leaking and red, escaping the confines of his underwear as Leo shucked them off. 

Jim pulled him down and kissed him again, mouth firm and insistent, and Leo gave as good as he got, pressing Jim back into the couch, plundering his mouth.

“Bed,” Leo gasped as Jim kissed his way down Leo’s neck. He stumbled off the couch, tugged Jim after him. “C’mon.”

Halfway there, Jim pulled him closer, fiddling with his pants. “Not fair you get to keep yours on,” he murmured in between kisses, but his hands kept on fumbling with the button. 

Leo batted them away. “Can’t even open a button. Infant,” he grumbled. 

Jim laughed. Winked. “Can’t help that you’re so distracting.”

Leo rolled his eyes as he hastily got rid of his pants and underwear, too. Jim sucked in a quick breath and took a step back, looking over Leo. 

“ _Damn_.”

“Ya done?” Leo deadpanned, then jerked his head toward the bed and added, “Get on the bed.”

Jim licked his lips, eyes lingering on Leo’s torso before doing just that. He sat on the back of his feet, kneeling on the bed. Quirking an eyebrow, he asked, “How do you want me?”

Leo’s dick gave a very physical reaction to _that_ question. 

Jim’s eyes flickered down, lips twisting with a smirk. “Still haven’t specified,” he added drily.

Leo’s mouth was dry as he said, “On your back.”

Jim nodded, a hint of a smirk still on his lips, and lied on his back, making a whole damn show of it, too. Not that Leo minded. Far from it, in fact. 

Leo approached the bed before stopping, twisting his mouth as he remembered that he needed to get condoms. Part of him wanted to fuck that and just get to Jim––his patience was _really_ starting to wear thin––but the more levelheaded part of him remembered that it would be much easier and safer if the condoms were in-reach if they decided to go _that_ route. The lube was already in the bedside drawer. He let out a sigh and turned around, hightailing it to the bathroom and rummaging around for the condoms.

“Hey––hey! Where’d you go?”

“Condoms,” he barked. Where the _hell_ had he put the damn things? 

A beat of silence. “Ah.” A pause. “Good thinking.”

Leo finally found them and smirked, walking back with much more nonchalance than he actually had. “Well, _someone’s_ gotta do the thinking part in this relationship.”

Jim opened his mouth, probably to snark at him, but and then shut it. His eyes widened. Panic was starting to make its way onto his face, and Leo winced, knowing he’d said something wrong.

He walked to Jim, slammed the condoms onto the bedside table, and got up onto the bed. He leant down and cupped Jim’s face, said, “Hey, now, don’t go freakin’ out on me.”

Jim licked his lips. Tried to get out an easy laugh, which failed spectacularly. “I’m––I’m not _freaking out_ , Bones,” he said, not making eye contact. 

“Jim.” When Jim didn’t respond–– _shocking_ ––he frowned, leaned in closer. “Jim, listen to me.” 

Jim finally made eye contact. 

“Look, we’ve always had a relationship, all right? We’re just…adding sex into the mix, if you want to,” Leo said, swiping his thumb across Jim’s cheek. “We don’t need to _call_ it anything.” 

Jim licked his lips, leaning into the touch. Softly, he said, “…Bones, I don’t know if I can––I don’t know if I can give you what—what you want. Or deserve.” He flicked his eyes upward. “You know I won’t be able to stop flirting, right? It’s––I do it without thinking.”

Leo settled back onto his knees and raised an eyebrow. “Jim, I’ve known you for _five years_. I know flirting comes as naturally as breathing to you. I don’t expect you to stop.”

Jim licked his lips. “And I may have to go beyond flirting, sometimes. You know how it is.”

Yeah, Leo was familiar with the whole ‘fuck for the ‘Fleet’ type mission. Never happened to them, yet, but he’d heard stories from reliable sources. “I know.”

Jim looked up at him through his eyelashes. “And I can’t––I can’t promise you monogamy. I’ll try my best, but I can’t promise you _anything_. At all. I don’t––I don’t do normal relationships. I don’t even think I know how. I mean––.”

“Jim,” Leo said, softly. “I know.”

Jim snapped his mouth shut. Furrowed his eyebrows. “You…know?”

“Look,” Leo sighed, “I can’t say I’m too fond of the idea of you sleepin’ around, okay, but I _know_ , Jim. I don’t––I don’t expect you to change. Not for me. I’ve known you for years, and I know what I’m getting into. I don’t _expect_ anything from you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. You don’t need to try and meet some standards, or try to learn the ‘rules,’ because––well, like I said. We both know how we feel. Hell, I know for a fact that I’ve felt like this for a while, now, and I really don’t _feel_ any different about you. This just means that we can, y’know, fuck. And maybe touch more often, publicly, express more emotion outwardly.” Leo looked at him. “And I’m selfish, Jim, so you’ll have to be patient with me, but we can make this work. All right?” He paused and licked his lips. “If you…well, if you want to.”

Jim leaned his head back and stared at Leo, eyebrows furrowed. “Of course I do!” 

Leo nodded. “Then I don’t see a problem. We can work it out as we go along. Don’t—well, I know what I’m getting into, okay?”

Jim frowned. “Yeah, but what if you _don’t_?” 

Leo sighed. “Jim, I trust you.”

“Yeah, but––.” 

Leo put his hand over Jim’s mouth, shutting him up. “Jim. I _trust you,”_ he repeated, softer, firmer.

Jim swallowed, looking at him as if he’d just single-handedly created universal peace. “…Seriously? You’d…trust me _that_ much? Don’t you––isn’t––I mean––” Jim licked his lips “––Jocelyn.” 

“Well, it isn’t cheating if I know about it, right?” Leo said. “You’re not Joss, Jim. Not by a long shot.” And Leo didn’t _expect_ anything from Jim, not like he had with Joss. He didn’t expect anything to change, he didn’t expect grand romantic gestures, declarations of love and monogamy. He just wanted to be able to hold Jim close, pepper his skin with kisses, whisper praise and give him love, to heal him and comfort him. He wanted Jim to love him––he didn’t want him to _be_ his. Jim was complicated—fucking understatement of the year—but…but Leo knew Jim’d never leave him. He was loyal. And it was obvious that he loved Leo, too. 

Leo didn’t likethe idea of sharing––he _was_ an only child, after all––but he was willing to do so, if Jim needed it. Because that was what being in a relationship involved: making sure the other’s needs were met and accepting not everything was going to go your way.

“Fuck,” Jim whispered, eyes wide. His mouth worked, and he swallowed before continuing, his voice thick with emotion, “Fuck, Bones, you’re––.” He surged forward and kissed Leo, mouth intent, pouring his love and gratitude and relief into the kiss. “God, what did I do to deserve you,” Jim whispered against his mouth.

“Well, I’d say saving the world and the universe a couple o’ times really helped stack up some good karma,” Leo said, voice dry. “Maybe that has something to do with it.”

Jim leant back and laughed, head thrown back. He smiled at Leo, and it was so _pure_ , so relieved and _joyous_ , Leo felt his heart skip a beat.

Apparently, Jim turned him into a pubescent kid. He was worryingly okay with that. 

Jim’s smile dimmed, turned into something much more sheepish. “So, I guess I totally ruined the mood, huh?”

“Yeah,” Leo said, and then shrugged. “But who cares?” 

Jim sighed. “Sorry.” 

Leo rolled his eyes. “Don’t be.” He eyed Jim. “I'm assuming your off-shift, right?” 

Jim nodded. “Yeah.” The “ _obviously”_ went unsaid. 

Leo nodded. “Good.” The desire had been pumping through his veins just a few moments before, but now it had dimmed. He wouldn’t say he didn’t _want_ Jim—he’d wanted him for too fucking long, actually—but he knew that he didn’t exactly wanna act on that desire right this moment. Frankly, Leo wanted to hold Jim close and maybe get some proper sleep for the first time in weeks.

So he did just that. He pulled out the sheets from under Jim, lay down, and shifted toward Jim and wrapped his arms around him, bringing him in closer. 

Yeah, he was a cuddler. Fucking _bite him_. 

Jim stiffened, wide eyes looking at him. “What’re you—.”

“The fuck does it look like I’m doin’, Jim?” he drawled, rolling his eyes.  

“ _I_ don’t know. That’s why I’m _asking_.”

Leo huffed out a breath. “Cuddling, Jim. We’re _cuddling_.” 

“Wait, so, no sex?”

“Not right now, no.” He paused. “Unless…you want to?” He looked down at Jim and added, almost hesitantly. “We got lots of time, Jim.” 

Jim’s smile was slow to grow but wide. “We do, don’t we?” 

Leo’s answering grin may or may not have been able to be described as _sappy_. “Yeah, we do.”

They fell silent after that, but Jim was still stiff in his arms. Stiff and unsure. The whole position was more uncomfortable than _loving_ , really. 

Leo let out a loud exhale and shifted back just a bit. “Christ, Jim, relax.”

Jim looked up at him with vaguely terrified eyes. “Bones, where the fuck do I put my arms?” 

Leo blinked at him. He couldn’t help it—he burst into laughter.

“ _Bones_ , stop _laughing_. I’m serious. Fuck. _Fuck_.”

Leo calmed down, shaking his head, grin on his face. Jim looked fucking _terrified_. He raised an eyebrow. “What, you never done this before?” 

Jim paused, looked at Leo, looked away. “No,” he said softly.

Leo’s brows furrowed, the grin melting off his face. 

Jim shifted and cleared his throat. “A bit hard to ‘cuddle’ with some stranger when you have sex in a bathroom stall, you know. Or when you’re trying to get away as quickly as possible.” Knowing Jim, it had probably meant to come out light, wry, but the words held bitterness and self-deprecation. 

Leo felt his throat clog up with emotion he didn’t want to put a name to. God. His eyes softened of their own accord, and he raised a hand to cradle Jim’s cheek. “Guess we’ll need to work on your skills, then,” he said wryly, because he knew that pity was the last thing Jim wanted. “ ‘Cause you suck at this.” 

Jim made a face. “This isn’t exactly, like, _intuitive_ , okay.”

Leo regarded him with a look he reserved for those he found particularly incompetent. “Yeah, Jim. It kinda is,” he said, as if talking to an idiot. Which he absolutely was. 

Jim glared at him. “You suck.”

Leo smirked. “If you ask politely, sure.” 

Jim rolled his eyes, but there was a grin playing at his lips. “That was horrible.”

“No, it wasn’t.” It absolutely had been. “Here—.” Leo shifted and rearranged their limbs until the position was more comfortable. “There. Better?”

Jim nodded. “Yeah.” He was silent for a second, and then said, “So…since I suck at this…does it mean we’ll have to do it often?” He kept a straight face, but his eyes were alight with mischief, fondness. 

Leo fought to keep the smile down. “Guess so.”  

Jim grinned, slow and wide. “Yeah?”

Leo kept a straight face as he added in a somber tone, “I mean, it’ll be a pain in the ass, sure, and it’ll take some real effort and time, but how could we call ourselves ‘Fleet officers if we didn’t bear through this, right?”

“Exactly. Sacrifice and stuff, right?” Jim said, nodding. 

“Right.”

Jim was trying to reign his smile in, Leo could tell, but his lips still curled upward. He looked at Leo with soft eyes and he brought up a hand to trace his right eyebrow. “Guess I’m stuck with you then, huh?” 

“Unfortunately for me, yeah,” Leo said. After a moment of silence where—yeah, okay, they stared into each other’s eyes like in those ridiculous romance holos Scotty refused to admit he watched, Leo continued, eyebrow raised, “Now that that’s out of the way, do you mind shutting up so I can go to sleep?”

Jim grinned and wriggled closer, nuzzled his nose into Leo’s neck. “ ‘Night, Bones.” The words were whispered into his skin. 

Leo smiled softly and kissed the top of Jim’s head. “ ‘Night, Jim.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

Yeah. They could make this work.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/con-crit/reactions will be cherished forever.


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